


Not a Saint

by Meandsushiroll



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, KuroKen Week 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meandsushiroll/pseuds/Meandsushiroll
Summary: Kuroo is a first time student teacher at a university when he meets a familiar looking stranger.Written for Kuroken week 2017





	Not a Saint

Kuroo knew this wasn’t right. He understood exactly what was happening, how it could ruin his career, his _life_ , because it was just plain, morally _wrong_. He knew for a fact that what he should do is leave before he got in too deep, before anyone found out. He had to pull himself together, he had to stop, he could be strong, he was-

“ _Ah_ , Kuro.” Kenma moaned as he ground down on Kuroo’s lap, lips moving hungrily down his neck.

He was weak.

There Kuroo was, assistant professor finally on the path toward his doctorate degree, being undone by a student half a decade his younger.

Pathetic, Kuroo thinks to himself, mind foggy as he runs his hands up Kenma’s sides before tangling them in his hair. It’s longer now than he kept it in high school, and isn’t bleached anymore. Maybe if it still was Kuroo would have recognized him earlier in his first class, and he wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. Maybe he wouldn’t be in his department’s student receiving office in the waning minutes of the afternoon, kissing a half-naked teenager with a desperation he didn’t even know he had.

He should have realized that the incredibly beautiful man that sat in the back of the small lecture hall with pale skin and a curtain of hair slightly covering his face was no other than Kenma, his next door neighbor’s kid. He had tried his best not to stare while the professor was explaining the participation expectations and assignments, but he couldn’t help it. The man was exactly his type, thin and almost delicate, but with an edge of _something_ , maybe the steely determination in his eyes in the brief moment of eye contact shared. He definitely should have recognized when those big gold eyes looked up at him just like they used to when they were both young, but he was too distracted by how thick the air became, the tension palpable between them. Kuroo couldn’t remember feeling like this before, this animalistic pull as if the man was specifically created to spark his desire.

Kuroo had quickly adverted his eyes, remembering where he was. This wasn’t some seedy bar he could slip into to pick up a warm body to hold, he was at school, at work. Meeting attractive students was to be expected, but lusting after one was not a behavior he wanted to start. This could get him in serious trouble. He resolved to try to move past this, after all this was the career he worked so hard for. He wasn’t going to let all his effort go to waste because one of his first students was hot.

 _More than hot_ , his mind supplied unhelpfully, but he ignored it. He was going to maintain a professional relationship with all his students. Including the more than hot ones. He was determined.

Well, at least he was until Kenma Kozume slipped in the room.

The last time he’d seen Kenma was four years ago, before he just moved abroad for his graduate studies. Back then, Kenma and him were close friends, despite their age difference. The Kozume family moved into the neighborhood when Kuroo was thirteen, and although quiet and not very sociable, Kenma seemed to take a liking to Kuroo. He came over every weekend to play video games and even helped Kuroo practice volleyball, even though he didn’t seem to like it very much. Kuroo guessed that other middle schoolers wouldn’t want to spend so much time with a little kid, but hanging out with Kenma felt good, comfortable. As the years past, their existences fell in sync just as their volleyball practice did, as if they’d known each other their whole lives. When he decided to go to another prefecture for university, it was strangely the hardest to tell Kenma he was leaving, how hard it was to say goodbye. Kenma just got quiet like he always did, hiding behind his hair and wishing him good luck before turning back to his game.

He always saw him when he came home every so often, convincing him to join the volleyball team to make friends and sharing his college experiences. It was funny, how easily he was able to open up to a fifteen-year-old. Kenma was just easy to talk to, he was a good listener and didn’t judge harshly, even though he didn’t sugar coat the truth or his opinions. And in turn, Kenma probably opened up to Kuroo more than anymore else. They never spoke really about if something was bothering him or if he was anxious, but Kuroo could tell he let his guard down around him.

Sometimes he would show up at his door in his high school days with his hair hiding his face, just to sit by him, saying nothing, no game in sight. He would rest his head on Kuroo’s shoulder as he finished his homework or did volleyball strategy, getting comfort from his presence. Kuroo worried that Kenma was being bullied, because that evolved to what could be described as full on cuddling when Kuroo came back to visit from college.

Kenma would come over, hair bleached now, and after a couple rounds of beating Kuroo at games he would curl up next to him on the bed, head tucked under his chin and hands on his chest. Kenma would almost be in his lap with his hands fisted in Kuroo’s shirt, so the only way they could sit comfortably was if Kuroo wrapped his arms around him. At first it made Kuroo feel a little awkward being so well, intimate, with his childhood friend, but he understood that Kenma probably didn’t have anyone else to go to when he wasn’t there. We wanted to ask what was wrong, but if Kenma didn’t volunteer to speak, he knew better than to prod. Plus he didn’t really mind, especially since Kenma seemed to feel better afterward, even if he seemed sad pulling away.

But after graduating and being accepted into his dream program abroad, Kuroo had to say goodbye once again. They emailed every couple of weeks at first, surprisingly often since Kenma wasn’t much of a communicator. But soon Kuroo got busy with his new life, with friends and lovers and school, and he forgot to reply to some of Kenma’s messages. Even though their contact dwindled to speaking only once every few months, Kuroo still valued the friendship between him and his neighbor, a shy but incredibly kind and intelligent kid.

And that is just how Kenma was in Kuro’s head, a kid. A child, the boys who didn’t have any other friends and who had followed him around and looked up to him like an older brother. Kenma who never mentioned a romantic interest in anyone, whose hands so innocently clung to him for comfort.

And now those innocent hands were busy unbuckling Kuroo’s belt and unbuttoning his pants. Sometime during the shame spiral going on in Kuro’s head his shirt was removed, and somehow dark pink marks had appeared on Kenma’s neck. He couldn’t stop his hands from roaming Kenma’s exposed skin, stroking a pink nipple while he devoured his mouth. He was panting hard, he could hear it echoing in the small room, thankful that it was in a rarely traveled part of the building. He almost choked when Kenma’s small hand reached down into his boxers to stroke his half-hard cock and began to slide off his lap to his knees on the floor. When he looked up into Kuroo’s eyes with the same blank stare he had such fond memories off, Kuroo was overwhelmed, it was too much.

“Kenma, Kenma stop.” he said, sounding way more breathless than he wanted.

Kenma just blinked up at him from his position on the floor, hair fanning out around his face, a beautiful flush on his features.

“We shouldn’t-We should stop.” he stutters, sounding a lot less sure than he wanted to feel.

A small frown formed on Kenma’s face, his swollen pink lips formed a pout and tilted his head.

“You don’t want me to blow you?” he said, confused.

Kuroo felt his face _burn_ , how was this the same kid who would hide behind a phone screen rather than have a conversation? “That’s not the point! This isn’t right.”

Kenma blinked up at him, sitting back on his knees. He said nothing, his blank stare silently urging Kuroo to continue.

“I just think,” he started, as he bit his lip nervously. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before, but you look different and sound different and then you came in here acting all…I’m not saying that I’m blameless or anything, I mean now I’m your _teacher_ so regardless I shouldn’t have… and besides I _know_ you Kenma so-!” He was avoiding Kenma’s eyes, looking off to the side. “You’re just a kid! I know you may be frustrated, sexually; I was your age once too. But we can’t, it’s not right. I’m…I would be taking advantage of you.”

A long moment of silence passed between them, the guilt that accumulated since the first second of their kiss tumbling out.

“Sexually frustrated?” Kenma murmured quietly, drawing Kuroo’s eyes to him. “Is that what you think this is?”

An uncomfortable silence settled in the room as Kenma tilted his head in a familiar gesture, so that his hair cascaded down over his face. He moved his hands back into his own lap, balling them into fists. Kuroo couldn’t help but notice how beautifully the dark fabric of his jeans clashed with his skin. He watched as they began to tremble, clenched in a way that must be painful. He was about to open his mouth, about to reach out when—

“Nothing’s going to work is it?” came Kenma’s voice, barely above a whisper.

What?

“I’ve tried everything, everything, to get you to notice me. To see me. But it’s hopeless isn’t it?” Kenma’s whole body was trembling now, wound up tight like a string. His head was still down so Kuroo couldn’t even see a glimpse of his expression.

“See you?” he reached out as he replied, trying to put his hand on Kenma’s shoulder, “Kenma, look I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you and I’m sorry I haven’t really stayed in touch, I should have tried harder. But you still are one of my best friends, so you don’t have to do this type of thing okay? I know this isn’t you-“

His arm was suddenly shoved away, yanked off as Kenma’s head snapped up. Kuroo started a little as those piercing eyes glared angrily at his, streaks of wetness underneath.

“How would you know that? You don’t know a thing about me!” he snapped, voice louder than Kuroo had ever heard it. Kuroo’s eyes widened, shocked at the level of emotion.

“Kenma-”

“No!” Kenma snaps again, this time rising to his feet to stare angrily down at Kuroo. “It doesn’t matter, nothing ever changes!”

He turned and snatched his shirt off the floor, hastily pulling it over his head. It’s on backward and Kenma’s long hair is caught in the inside of the collar, but Kuroo doesn’t find it the least bit amusing. Not when Kenma is this upset. Kenma turned away, looking for his jacket.

“You thought I was some stranger, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t stop me at first right?” he said he slipped it on, voice returning to its normal level, now tinged with sadness. “I shouldn’t have known. But I….it doesn’t matter. I’ve had enough, you don’t want me. Goodbye Kuroo.”

“No, no wait! ” Kuroo said, quick reflexes allowing him to grab Kenma before he could move toward the door. “Kenma please, I’m sorry. I don’t-I didn’t mean – please I don’t understand,” Kuro was grasping at straws, confused. Kenma’s back was turned away from him, but he could see his slim shoulders trembling.

“Please Kenma, please tell me what’s wrong.”

Another beat of silence between them, the air heavy with a different tension than before. Kuroo heard Kenma take a shaky breath and mumble something in a small voice.

“I love you” he said, voice soft and watery.

Kuroo’s brain stopped. What seemed like an hour past before he could breathe again, and before he could even think about it he heard himself squeak out a confused “What?”

Kenma turned to him, slowly; eyes trained on the floor as he carefully took his hand from Kuroo’s lax grip.

“I loved you.” he said again, clear and calm. He turns his head up to fix his golden gaze on Kuroo’s own, and he can’t remember the last time anyone had ever looked at him with such raw emotion. “I’m in love with you Kuro.”

“You…” Kuroo was still at a loss. This was all so sudden. Kenma loved him? Kenma who never mentioned interest or attraction to anyone ever? He loved _Kuroo_? Since when?

“Since high school,” he heard from Kenma mumble, not realizing he asked the last question out loud. “At least that was what I noticed. It’s probably been longer.”

High school? Kuroo’s mouth went dry. How did he miss this? Granted they’d been apart for most of the time, but he was supposed to know Kenma, he was his best friend. All those times home, all the conversations, the cuddling, they’d done over the years. How did he not notice? Kenma has always been good at hiding himself, but Kuroo was supposed to be the one who could see through all that. He was supposed to understand Kenma more than anyone.

“I…” it occurred to him that Kenma was waiting for an answer. But what should he say? What even was there to say? “I’m sorry I didn’t know that you…about anyone, not just…” he trailed off.

Kenma’s eyes lowered slowly from Kuroo’s to the floor, attempting to erase disappointment and heartbreak off his face. He swallowed and shifted his weight before taking a deep breath.

“I know you don’t love me. “ he said, voice uneven. “I just thought if I could have you like this it would…you would see me as more than the kid next door. But I understand it would foolish of me now.”

A painful silence settled over the both of them, Kuroo watching Kenma’s face slowly return to the neutral, impassive stare he was so used to. But this was different somehow, he could almost feel Kenma’s thoughts and he knew that he was closing inward. That his hopes were smashed and he was trying to save face by shutting everything out. He knew him well enough to understand how far Kenma had pushed himself for this, for him. And that because of Kuroo’s rejection he might never open himself up again. And that thought terrified Kuroo.

“No.” he said without thinking, voice rough and soft. Kenma looked up and Kuroo blanked. He tried to think of something else to say, something the to stop the cold, growing distance between them. He took a breath, feeling surprisingly desperate. “Listen I’m won’t lie to you, this is completely unexpected. I didn’t know you felt this way and –and I don’t really know how to feel about it. But you can’t just expect me to either! I need time.”

“Time?” Kenma tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Kuroo almost laughed at how it was.

“Yeah. It’s not like my best friend confession to me happens every day. I don’t really know how I feel, I just need some time to sort everything out.”

Kenma said nothing, face carefully blank, even to Kuroo. He had grown to be a beautiful man. He was always cute, but Kuroo never really paid attention to that. In his mind, Kenma was associated with warmth and laughter and pure, innocent friendship. But Kenma wasn’t a child anymore, as he had so thoroughly proven. And as Kuroo looked at him, his gorgeous best friend that had tried so hard just to get a bit of his attention, he felt a strange warmth gather in his chest.

“But I’ll tell you this, you would have to be some sort of saint to still see you as a kid after all this,” he gestured to their undressed state, and twisted his craftiest smirk that Kenma knew well. “And we both know I’m no saint.”

A small smile grew on Kenma’s face. Kuroo felt his heart speed up. It was only a little, but it was there. In a moment of boldness, he reached out and took Kenma’s hand.

“I just need some time, okay?”

Kenma looked down at their intertwined hands, face coloring. He looked up again, spreading his small smile in hope and squeezing Kuroo’s fingers.

“Okay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me a comment if you liked it!


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